And Hear the Angels Sing
by A.K.A. Anonymous
Summary: Okay, I wanted to do a sonfic with 'It Came Upon A Midnight Clear' and this is what came out. Grab the tissues before reading, it's pretty gloomy.


HAD to get this out of my system. And boy is it gloomier than I wanted. Sorry!  
  
Title: And Hear the Angels Sing   
Author: AKA Anonymous  
Disclaimer: Standard ones apply. I own nothing but the slightly depressing plot.  
Pairings: I leave them up to your imaginations.   
Notes: After you read this I suggest immediately reading something like Mel and Christy's 'That Damn Tree' or 'So This is Christmas'. I think the stress of finals killed my humor muse.   
  
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The dance hall was alight with a golden radiance that emanated, not only from the thousands of strands of lights, but also in the people themselves. They gathered in groups along side the banquet tables, swept by in a flurry of material upon the polish wood floor, and watched excitedly from the balconies above.   
  
Within the fairy-tale scene moved people of power, wealth, and influence, but also, hidden within a shaded corner, a small detail of soldiers. Their uniforms for the evening were tailored suits of silk and satin, their weapons were deadly eyes and sinister smiles; their commander breezed through the throngs with the ease and confidence of a born leader. The Vice-Foreign Minister--the keystone of peace--never left their attention for a moment as she mingled and wove her way around, pausing briefly now and then to draw out a word of acknowledgement or a small laugh from one politician or another.   
  
Dressed in a waistcoat and high-collared jacket of black satin, Wufei Chang blended into the shadows of their alcove as he kept his vigilance with a stern face. Tapping his fingers upon the white tablecloth in apparent boredom, Duo Maxwell yawned into a gloved hand and tugged for the hundredth time at the silver ascot that fluffed up from the throat of his own dark blue dress coat. Trowa Barton, dressed handsomely in green trimmed with gold, smirked slightly as the braided boy received a disapproving shot from their last companion, Heero Yuy. The assassin-turned-soldier stood closest to the dance floor, leaning against the drooping drapes that partially hid them from curious eyes but gave them a full view of the lively room. Heero's cold blue eyes, electrified by the light blue satin outfit he currently wore, allowed only a quick glare at his comrade before returning their study of the scene and its participants.   
  
Relena smiled, touching an arm here, giving a handshake there, and glided gracefully toward the stage on the far side of the floor. She was the lead actress in the play of the evening, guiding the others in her little script without their knowledge--it was her gift. She spoke, people listened. She suggested, people acted. As Duo had once stated after a similar event, 'She could sell a duck an umbrella on a sunny day.'   
  
She sold the idea of pacifism and even military leaders listened.   
  
This audience wasn't a hard sell, especially on *this* day. December 24, 198. A day which seemed to work miracles on the minds of people who would generally oppose each other, gathering them with light hearts to be in the presence of this slim, young woman. Ambitions of gain and power put away for the night, in remembrance and celebration.   
  
The sunny-haired woman stepped up to the microphone and a light applause washed over the room. She gave a bright smile that won her the silence she desired to begin her speech.  
  
In the back of the room the four soldiers watched without listening. They had long since tuned out the beautifully designed and emphasized words that flowed so sweetly from their commander. They didn't need to be reminded, they lived it.   
  
Their weapons were gone, saved for the training imbedded in their psyche. They had put away their grudges and struggled only to fit into the new world they had fought so desperately for. It was only out of habit and fear that they came to watch Relena, a paranoia that held their hearts especially on *this* day. The drone of the microphone echoed off the garnished walls as the ex-pilots kept their silent vigil within the shadows.   
  
When the speech had climaxed and Relena's hypnotizing voice softly began to bring the stirring discourse to its conclusion; where the crowd would applauded madly the girl-Minister would smile politely, and the pilots would relaxed a little internally until the next performance. This time, though, Heero noticed something amiss.   
  
"Where'd Duo go?"  
  
Trowa blinked and snapped his head towards the now empty table. The chair where the boy had sat was neatly pushed in and no sign was to been seen of his familiar profile within the crowd before them. The masses of silk and satin figures listened raptly to the finishing remarks of their hostess, unaware of the tension building in the three soldiers in the back. The remaining allies caught each other's worried glances and slipped out of the shade, each peeling off in his own direction to search.  
  
The Vice-Foreign Minister's voice rose a notch, indicating to the boys that she would end in only moments. Heero pushed civility aside as the crowd began its hearty applause and bodily forced his way through middle of the throng. A titter of laughter drifted down from above him, drawing his eyes to the gold banister balconies that were dotted with guests. His eyes widened slightly as he remembered his own attempts on Relena's life had been from similar positions. A moment later a light blue streak was seen hurtling up the stairs.  
  
Trowa had chosen the path towards the banquet tables that had been deserted in preference to the girl who was now bowing and smiling to the people. He found no clues as to the braided boy's disappearance in his vicinity and was about to move on when Heero's quick form caught his attention. Without hesitation Trowa raised a hand in signal to the pilot who still searched on the room's opposite side.  
  
Wufei's instincts flared as his black eyes followed the European's hand signals and made his own way to the closest stairway. His body relaxed even as his senses expanded, preparing to fight at a moment's notice against whatever came upon them.  
  
The crowd began to quiet, the dancers moving back to their positions; the orchestra was set to start its new piece as a strange sound wafted through the air.   
  
Heero jerked to a stop, almost stumbling at the abrupt change of momentum, his eyes falling upon a solitary figure sitting in the half-darkness of a small balcony. A soft sound issued forth that frozen the soldier's feet to the plush carpet and momentarily wiped all thought from his mind.  
  
"It came upon a midnight clear,  
That glorious song of old,  
From angels bending near the earth  
To touch their harps of gold:  
  
'Peace on the earth, good will to men,  
From heaven's all-gracious King!'  
The world in solemn stillness lay   
To hear the angels sing."  
  
Wrapped in the thick darkness of the balcony's corner, Duo sat on the floor, eyes closed and face relaxed as his light tenor drifted to the an unseen audience. And he did have an audience.  
  
On the bedazzled floor below several diplomats had also stopped in their places to hear the song better. Upon the balcony, scant feet away, Heero stepped back into the hallway to watch from a less noticeable position as the boy continued.   
  
"Still through the cloven skies they come,  
With peaceful wings unfurled  
And still their heavenly music floats   
O'er all the weary world;  
  
Above its sad and lowly plains  
They bend on hovering wing  
And ever o'er its Babel sounds  
The blessed angels sing."  
  
The crowd's noises grew softer as more people strained to hear the sorrowful tenor that seemed to whisper from the very walls. Earth politicians exchanged awed glances with colonial representatives, discussions of trade, laws, and resources swept away with the pure tones.  
  
Trowa and Wufei crept into position beside Heero, looking for his commands, but he only raised a hand for silence, never taking his eyes off the relaxed figure. The two only needed a moment to drop their warrior's instincts and listen to the voice calling out.  
  
"Yet with the woes of sin and strife  
The world hath suffered long;  
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled  
Two thousand years of wrong;  
  
And man, at war with man, hears not  
The love song which they bring  
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,  
And hear the angels sing."  
  
Only whispers now floated across the floor. All eyes swept the room for the source of the beautiful tenor notes, but they could find none. Several guests then turned to their hostess for answers; Relena stood among them, but did not see their faces. Stunned in amazement she could only listen to each note as it reverberated off the ceiling and walls around her.   
  
The voice that was so familiar, usually warm and joyous, caught her breath in her throat with its melancholy strains.   
  
"And ye, beneath life's crushing load,  
Whose forms are bending low,  
Who toil along the climbing way   
With painful steps and slow:  
  
Look now! for glad and golden hours  
Come swiftly on the wing;  
O rest beside the weary road  
And hear the angels sing."  
  
The ballroom, its guests now silent, took an unearthly calm as the boy's song continued. Duo's eyes were still closed, unaware of the effects of his soft melody upon the strangers and his fellow soldiers. He rocked slightly from side to side, like a lonely child that was trying to fall asleep.   
  
Heero watched his friend carefully, trying to reason away the strange behavior and unaware that the pilots behind him struggled as well. He kept his focus on the relaxed face and caught a flick of light dancing upon one cheek. The lights from the ballroom made the tear look like a single crystal that twinkled in the golden lights.  
  
Wufei did not study his comrade so fiercely, but allowed the heartfelt music to move over him. In that innocent voice he was reminded of the twists and turns of his life. The joys and the sadness' of the last few years balanced out and he opened his eyes to smile gently at his friend.  
  
Trowa couldn't stand to look at the smooth face. He pushed his back to the wall as the music flooded into him. He couldn't block it and it crashed into his memories with a million buried thoughts of loss. Duo's voice melted away only to be replaced with another. So familiar, so unbearably sweet and painful...  
  
"For lo! the days are hastening on,  
By prophet bards foretold,  
When, with the ever-circling years,  
Shall come the Age of Gold;  
  
When peace shall over all the world  
Its heavenly splendors fling  
And all the world give back the song  
Which now... t-the a-angels..."  
  
The enraptured audience gasped silently as the voice faltered and choked. The boy's song was cut short in a muffled sob of pain that left the stunned diplomats shedding tears of their own for the unknown singer.   
  
Only the other Gundam pilots could see the boy whose voice had held them and they stood stock-still, unable to offer comfort in their shock. Duo, no longer relaxed and gently rocking, curled his legs to his chest and buried his head on his knees. The silk material swallowed most of his soft weeping, but his shoulders betrayed the wracking sobs to Heero and Wufei's astonished eyes.  
  
The moment of absolute silence that permeated the enormous room as the guests gathered their wits once again was all the time Heero and Wufei needed to break the spell holding them in place. As the thunder of applause and cheers exploded all around, the two comrades rushed to the braid pilot's side. Wufei spoke kindly as Heero, not knowing what else to do, forced his friend's head up.   
  
A moment of disorientation passed over the American's features as he suddenly found himself in the company of familiar, though unnaturally concerned, faces. When the disorientation passed he pulled the two close to him as he began to cry anew.  
  
Trowa watched from the doorway as his friends sat on the floor in a tangle of limbs, each boy looking like he was holding the others for life itself. Another pang of grief swept through him as he felt the ghost of another with them. Another boy with whom he had shared a link beyond comprehension and who seemed to keep that link alive even in death.  
  
The golden light of the light bulbs around them brightened slightly as the presence of the fifth grew stronger. The emerald-eyed mercenary trembled briefly as he felt a pressure at his back. Like a strong, delicately built hand was trying to guide him forward. He didn't resist, he never did.  
  
Now the four boys sat on the thick carpet in a circle, each with diamond-sparkles leaking from their eyes, but they ignored them as their attentions turned to the boy with cinnamon hair.   
  
"I thought...I felt--" Heero started, the words failing him as his azure gaze looked to his comrades for support.  
  
Duo and Wufei gave their affirmatives. All of their eyes settled on Trowa's tear streaked face, but he was focused on the braided boy.  
  
"Did he?" Trowa asked, reverting back to his short-speech vocabulary in his anxiety.  
  
The braided boy smiled sadly and nodded. "After the first war. I heard him playing the piano and I asked him to teach me something, but when I was learning he asked me to sing the lyrics instead, while he played. We did the same thing the night of the Barton Incident. He really liked the words..."  
  
Trowa nodded as Duo's voice faded. Quatre wasn't one to let religion get in the way of admiring beauty, especially in music. The boy with golden hair thrived in harmonies, tones, and poetry. It was no wonder that his ghost was so enlivened by Duo's impromptu performance, on the night of the anniversary the end of the wars and his own death.  
  
Duo sniffed once more as he added softly, "I almost felt like he was here when I was singing. When I closed my eyes I could almost hear the piano."  
  
Trowa reached over and gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "He was here; I felt him," he placed his other hand over his heart, "and he was happy."  
  
Tears threatened to overcome Duo's eyes once again, but they were never shed. At that moment their little detail was discovered by a band of politicians--only Heero's deadly looks and Wufei's slightly undiplomatic remarks kept them from being bombarded with questions. The group of friends got up and started for the exit, having accomplished the mission of seeing sure that their commander of peace was still safe, they slipped out into the night.  
  
Trowa lagged behind as the others pulled out their valet tickets to retrieve their cars. His green outfit gave him little protection against the December night, but his body filled with warmth as he felt the fading touches of his soul mate slip away.  
  
"Merry Christmas," Trowa breathed to the ghost before turning his mind back to the world of the living. The others had stopped to wait for him and he picked up his pace. Together the veterans left, a final strain of music ringing in their ears:  
  
'And all the world give back the song  
Which now the angels sing.'   
  
In the blue-black sky above, a single shooting star fell toward Earth. And so began Christmas Day.  
  
  
  
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Oi! I started that as a fluff fic and looked where it ended! *Smacks her forehead* I need to get some serious sap written soon, before this depressing stuff takes hold. Hopefully I'll have the sequel to 'The Night Gives Me Strength' sometime in the next few days.   
  
Happy Holidays, everyone! Now go read something less dark.  
--Anon=) 


End file.
